


And Though She Be But Little

by iamanonjustanon



Series: Love Is Here To Stay [3]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Family Fluff, Jenny Calendar Day 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:29:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24335905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamanonjustanon/pseuds/iamanonjustanon
Summary: She’s gutsy, her kid, asking for a muffin before bedtime.
Relationships: Jenny Calendar/Rupert Giles
Series: Love Is Here To Stay [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756900
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	And Though She Be But Little

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Eclectic_Bookworm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Eclectic_Bookworm/gifts).



> Happy Birthday again, The_Eclectic_Bookworm! Here's another serving of fluff you didn't ask for. Inspired by this: "Little Girl Wants A New Mom" / https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wDqeqf59hKg

Jenny liked to think that being a teacher, and in effect, being surrounded by high school kids for many years now, had prepared her for all sorts of witty, funny, silly, angry, creepy one-liners that _nothing_ really fazed her anymore. Enter her toddler daughter and everything got thrown out of the window. 

“I-I need another mommy,” her three-year-old said softly, biting her lips to stop herself from crying. She was positively adorable in her _Star Wars_ pajamas, with a _wookie_ robe to boot. 

She’s gutsy, her kid, asking for a muffin before bedtime. 

Jenny tried not to look too impressed. “What did you say, Sab?”

“Are you being mean to me?” Her big, round eyes, green like her father’s, were challenging. A stray tear fell but she quickly wiped it away with her sleeve. 

“No.”

“No? Are you happy?” Sab pressed on. Jenny was reminded of all those times that she and Rupert had encouraged their daughter to talk about how she’s feeling, or to ask them any questions on her mind. This time the tables had turned.

“Yeah—I mean, I could be _happier_ if you’d still want me to tuck you to bed. Can I still do that?”

“I-I need another mommy,” she repeated, lips wobbling. There were more unwelcome tears, and Jenny wanted nothing more than to scoop her baby up and eat all the muffins in the house with her.

“You need another mommy?” 

“Y-yes.” Sab wouldn’t meet her eyes, but it was obvious she’s one step away from breaking down.

Except her daughter didn’t do tantrums and meltdowns at all. She remained stoic until silent tears just started streaming down her face and they eventually turned to quiet whimpers. And that’s it—no big drama, no thrashing around, no unnecessary wailing. Jenny honestly didn't know which was worse. With Sab, it’s always the revenge of the _puppy dog eyes_ but way, way, way more biting. No pun intended. 

“Okay. Who do you want as your mommy?” 

Sab looked at anywhere but Jenny, finally settling on the pictures tacked against the fridge door. One of which was of a certain Slayer holding up a giggling Sab, both of them goofily recreating Rafiki and Simba’s cliff scene in _The Lion King_. “Faith?”

“Mmm, okay, I’ll tell her.” Three years in ( _really, it’s long before that_ ) and sometimes Jenny still doubted whether she’s nailing this parenting thing as well as she thought. A small, illogical part of her wondered if maybe her daughter did need another mommy.

Then again, a more assertive, incredibly stubborn voice in her head that conveniently sounded like Rupert was quick to keep her grounded and remind her that this was the same daughter who would _cling_ dearly to her like a cute baby koala; who, whenever she’s away, would be unable to sleep without _Facetime_ -ing first and peppering “her” with wet, sloppy kisses at the expense of Rupert’s suddenly drenched phone; who would insist on twinning nail colors with her; who would readily share her favorite pancakes with her; _and darling, do you want me keep going because I can do this all day?_

“Okay, mommy.” For someone who’s supposed to finally get a new mommy, Sab didn’t seem all that pleased either.

“But you can’t call me _mommy_ anymore.” 

Surprised, Sab stared at her, hesitated then said in a small voice, “Mama?”

Observing her daughter, Jenny felt a familiar surge of overwhelming affection. She only ever called her that whenever she’s feeling frightened by a particularly bad dream or she’s feeling guilty for doing something she knew she shouldn’t have. Obviously Jenny didn’t want her daughter to be scared or to be unsure of herself, but there was always a tender and trusting warmth in her sweet girl’s voice whenever she called her _mama_. 

It used to terrify Jenny to be responsible for that _unwavering_ trust. Then she’d remember how Sab would comfort Willow and offer to “share mommy” with her whenever she thought Willow needed cheering up; or how she would patiently _shush_ Xander whenever they’re horsing around the house, and _he’s_ being a little too loud while Faith napped on the couch; or how she would tell Buffy she wished to be a doctor when she’s big so she could take care of her bruises or scrapes or even just her scratches. Jenny would see her children together—how protective they were of each other—and she would feel as though her heart would burst out of her chest with unbridled happiness. As though she and Rupert had done at least one thing right to _earn_ their trust.

“I may not be _mama_ anymore, too, sweetheart.” 

Sab, with brows furrowed, appeared to be in deep thought and looking very much like her father at the moment. 

“Dah-ling?” Sounded like him, too. 

“No, sweetie. That’s not my name.” 

Jenny reached down to brush her daughter’s hair from her eyes. It’s way past her bedtime, yet there she was fighting off sleep like a champion.

“What’s your _name_?” Ah, there’s the Calendar-Giles indignation Sab had _definitely_ owned. No DNA test needed.

“Jenny.”

“ _Jenny_? You’re _not_ Jenny.” Sab insisted with feisty confidence that her mother recognized. She looked mighty sure of herself that _Jenny_ wasn’t the same as _mommy_. She could be _mama_ or her father’s _dah-ling_ , but _Jenny—_ that seemed out of the question.

Jenny pulled a chair and sat down after a moment. “Come ‘ere,” she patted her lap, motioning for Sab to join her. 

In a flash her baby girl threw herself into her arms, hugging her with so much ferocity for someone so _little_. Jenny felt her heart melt all over again. 

“You think the muffin could wait until tomorrow?”

Sab gave a faint nod, burrowing further into her embrace. There’s probably not many things that Sab liked _more_ than her _mommy_ , and midnight muffin, as it turned out, wasn’t one of them.

A few minutes passed as Jenny sat there with her daughter on her lap, gently combing Sab’s hair with her fingers before fixing her sleep bun. They matched. 

“Are you ready to go to bed now?” 

She kissed her daughter on the forehead, for good measure. 

“Yeah, mommy.” 

* * *

“...so we were there in the kitchen and I was staring at her as if eating a muffin before bedtime was _not_ a terrific idea. But of course, it was!” Jenny was propped up on her elbow glowering at Rupert like it was somehow his fault that she had to say no to their daughter. “It’s _exactly_ the kind of brilliant thinking I’d expect from any kid of mine, to be honest.”

Rupert chuckled, “Faith, huh? Of course, she just had to go for another Jenny Calendar _incarnate_. Good lord, Sab is entirely enamored by you—as is everyone in this household.” He pulled her back tenderly against his chest.

“Pfft. _Sap_ alert,” Jenny teased, while tightening her arm around him. “Listen, all I’m saying is your kid is an absolute _angel_ and she deserves all the muffins in the world.”

“Far be it from me to disagree,” Rupert said. “Thank goodness that is _not all_ she eats, though. She loves her leafy greens just as much. Unlike her mum.” 

Jenny could practically hear the smugness in his voice. “It’s _mom_ and shut up. Don’t tempt me. I can just easily convince her to eat anything, and I mean _anything_ , if you truly want to turn this into a competition. But that’s _bad_ parenting, I guess?” Jenny sighed dramatically. “Oh god, how am I responsible for such a precious little thing when I can’t even figure out how to properly close a Chinese food takeout box?”

Rupert was laughing under his breath, “I suppose...restraint makes the difference here, yes? And you’re demonstrating now that you’re in possession of such quality...in addition to your rather _competitive_ spirit.”

“Well, we’re lucky we won the parent lottery. I am _not_ returning her. Nope. No return, no exchange.”

“Oh, unequivocally.” He smiled at her, thoroughly amused.

“I mean, either I can do a perfect Jedi mind trick— _This isn’t the muffin you’re looking for_ —or Sab is the smartest, most self-sufficient three-year old there is. She got it without so much of a fuss, just like that,” Jenny snapped her fingers for emphasis. “She just knew how to behave and soldier on on her own; I didn’t even do anything.”

“Darling, she’s _hardly_ on her own. You were there with her, weren’t you?” Rupert continued to hold Jenny in his arms, his fingers tracing soothing patterns against her waist. “She’s a smart girl, without a doubt. Still, whatever epiphany our daughter must have had, you eased her into it.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. You are, after all, a _splendid_ listener.” Rupert kissed the top of her head just as he always had when reassuring her.

“When it comes to you, I’m _not_.” Jenny needled him with fondness just as _she_ always had when appreciating him.

“You _do_ listen to me and my ruminations. You just choose to ignore them afterwards. That’s different.”

“No, I really _don’t_ , Rupert.”

“You _do_ listen.”

“I _don’t_.”

“You _do_.”

“...”

“—Do not deny it. You do.”

“...”

“—Jenny?”

“...”

“—Darling?”

“...”

“—Oh, hilarious. Are you seriously _forcing_ yourself to sleep now just to prove your point and subsequently _win_?”

“...”

“Jenny!”

  
  



End file.
